Post by Chris Casino on Dec 26, 2005 20:46:41 GMT -5
- Sincerity -
We open up on the private suite of our NAPW Champion, Chris Casino and see him sitting behind a huge desk. Behind him a 15 foot high window overlooks the strip. Casino adjusts his sunglasses and shuffles some papers on his desk.
Casino: It's come to my attention that the NAPW...Person...Recently complained that I misspelled his name on my web blog. That person is of course the Predator. He was even nice enough to spell it out for me, obviously he must think I'm one of his dirty Canadian countrymen for we all know they can't spell a damn thing. At any rate...Predator, I'm sorry you're such a whiney monkey that you had to pitch a bitch fit cause your name was misspelled. Actually, you SHOULD kiss my ass for even mentioning you. But that's fine, I'm used to all of you big cry baby Canadians.
Casino shuffles his papers some more. We catch a quick glimpse of one of them and see it's nothing ore than random doodling.
Casino: Speaking of cry babies....
Casino picks up a remote and mashes a button. His plasma screen TV comes to live and we see the former Provincial champion Ravager.
Ravager: 39 stitches. Two broken Fingers. Four cracked knuckles. A broken wrist. Severe blood loss. That was my gift to myself this Christmas.
My doctor advised me to take a break from wrestling. He said this kind of injury needs proper time to heal. He worries that going into the ring is just asking for complications. He's afraid that my opponents will target my weakness. But I'm counting on it. Hell, I'll help out any way I can.
The promo goes black as Casino turns off the TV.
Casino: Hey Ravager...shut the %&$* up already. If I wanted to hear a grown man bitch and moan on TV about his boo boos I'd go find what rock D! is hiding under. I tell you what...Since you're trash and live in a cardboard box I'm gonna send you a package of band aids for your hand and a muzzle for your mouth. I haven't heard such pitiful nonsense since that Devastation guy was wrestling.
Casino takes off his sunglasses and smiles for the camera. His blue eyes seem to cut right through us.
Casino: Children...I am the best. Period. I'm the World Champion. YOUR champion. So treat me with respect you STD ridden Canadians or I'll make sure that I never defend this belt in your poor excuse for a country again. I am Chris Casino. I am The Future of NAPW. So to all you haters out there...Kiss my ass you degenerate hockey pucks..
The phone rings and Casino picks picks it up.
Casino: (into the phone) He's here? Woo Hoo! Send him in.
The scene fades just as the door opens.
- cut to a commercial for Aaron's Taxidermy, Your dogs dead? Don't worry! Aaron will stuff him! -
We open up on the private suite of our NAPW Champion, Chris Casino and see him sitting behind a huge desk. Behind him a 15 foot high window overlooks the strip. Casino adjusts his sunglasses and shuffles some papers on his desk.
Casino: It's come to my attention that the NAPW...Person...Recently complained that I misspelled his name on my web blog. That person is of course the Predator. He was even nice enough to spell it out for me, obviously he must think I'm one of his dirty Canadian countrymen for we all know they can't spell a damn thing. At any rate...Predator, I'm sorry you're such a whiney monkey that you had to pitch a bitch fit cause your name was misspelled. Actually, you SHOULD kiss my ass for even mentioning you. But that's fine, I'm used to all of you big cry baby Canadians.
Casino shuffles his papers some more. We catch a quick glimpse of one of them and see it's nothing ore than random doodling.
Casino: Speaking of cry babies....
Casino picks up a remote and mashes a button. His plasma screen TV comes to live and we see the former Provincial champion Ravager.
Ravager: 39 stitches. Two broken Fingers. Four cracked knuckles. A broken wrist. Severe blood loss. That was my gift to myself this Christmas.
My doctor advised me to take a break from wrestling. He said this kind of injury needs proper time to heal. He worries that going into the ring is just asking for complications. He's afraid that my opponents will target my weakness. But I'm counting on it. Hell, I'll help out any way I can.
The promo goes black as Casino turns off the TV.
Casino: Hey Ravager...shut the %&$* up already. If I wanted to hear a grown man bitch and moan on TV about his boo boos I'd go find what rock D! is hiding under. I tell you what...Since you're trash and live in a cardboard box I'm gonna send you a package of band aids for your hand and a muzzle for your mouth. I haven't heard such pitiful nonsense since that Devastation guy was wrestling.
Casino takes off his sunglasses and smiles for the camera. His blue eyes seem to cut right through us.
Casino: Children...I am the best. Period. I'm the World Champion. YOUR champion. So treat me with respect you STD ridden Canadians or I'll make sure that I never defend this belt in your poor excuse for a country again. I am Chris Casino. I am The Future of NAPW. So to all you haters out there...Kiss my ass you degenerate hockey pucks..
The phone rings and Casino picks picks it up.
Casino: (into the phone) He's here? Woo Hoo! Send him in.
The scene fades just as the door opens.
- cut to a commercial for Aaron's Taxidermy, Your dogs dead? Don't worry! Aaron will stuff him! -